


if you were church (i'd get on my knees)

by Setting_Out_Stars



Category: Mamamoo, NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, HE HAS A CRUSH YOUR HONOUR, Lee Taeyong is Whipped, and he's a goddamn cheese ball, happy new year to me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28457718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Setting_Out_Stars/pseuds/Setting_Out_Stars
Summary: Wheein considers him, giving him a shy smile as she hugs herself tighter, her cheek dimpling and with the way his heart stutters in his chest Taeyong knows that he's absolutelygone.
Relationships: Jung Wheein/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 10
Kudos: 13





	if you were church (i'd get on my knees)

**Author's Note:**

> So wait hear me out I know many wouldn't consider this pairing but well, it was 5 am and I was deep in my pansexual Taeyong feels again and I absolutely love both Wheein and Taeyong so like. This happened and I was powerless to stop it. GOD I LOVE THIS THOUGH I LOVE TAEYONG BEING SO WHIPPED HE'S A NERVOUS MESS! I LOVE THAT HE HAS A SCHOOLBOY CRUSH ON HER! I LOVE HOW CHEESY AND DISGUSTINGLY CUTE THIS IS AND I AM WILLING TO GO DOWN WITH THIS SHIP YOU WILL PRY THIS TAEWHEE(?) AGENDA FROM MY COLD DEAD HANDS !!!
> 
> *clears throat* anyways, please enjoy. Not edited, you know the drill.

The tips of his fingers are numb and yet his palms are sweaty. His knees feel like they're going to buckle under his weight, too weak to hold him up. He's anxious and his stomach churns uncomfortably as he taps a foot against dew damp concrete, the wet crunch beneath his sole a welcome distraction.

Taeyong could blame the biting cold for his jittery limbs, he could blame the strange feeling in the pit of his stomach on hunger. Could maybe even try and excuse his behaviour as simple irritation – being forced to wait out in the cold for hours, _in a parking lot no less_ , in the middle of a pandemic could sour anyone's mood – but he knows it's neither of those things.

He can't even _pretend_ , not with the way his heart is hammering against his sternum, pulse drumming in his ears. He clenches his fists, unclenches them. He takes a deep breath before exhaling slowly, the mask he wears preventing his breath from fogging in the winter air. He feels like he might be physically ill, his mouth is dry and his legs wobble dangerously. Standing somewhere behind him, he hears his manager sigh, exasperated, and Taeyong is glad it's just him here and not any of the other boys. He's not in any hurry to make a fool of himself in front of them because he knows they'd never let him live it down. _Ever_.

Taeyong huffs loudly, taps his foot harder against the floor, brings his hands up to rub them together as he waits, standing away from where most of the crowd's gathered; people mingling and talking animatedly to each other in polite whispers to distract from the cold. Taeyong doesn't care much for small talk, especially with people he's mostly unfamiliar with. Besides, he's here waiting on a very specific someone.

There's a sudden loud laugh that cuts through the air and Taeyong blinks hard, squinting in the dark to try and get a better look at the quartet leaving the building, his heart thudding in his chest. The others gathered around bow their heads and clap weakly in congratulations and Taeyong subconsciously finds himself clapping along before he realises what he's doing and stops himself, drops his hands down to his side with a start.

 _He can't do this_. This is so stupid _. He can't do this_. He's an idiot, a fool. _He can't do this._ He should just leave and forget he even made an attempt to talk to _her_.

Taeyong turns, ready to sprint off in the direction of their van but he doesn't make it very far before his manager grabs him by the arm and yanks him back.

"Be a _man_ for fuck's sake," he grumbles, forcing Taeyong to turn around with both his hands on his shoulders and Taeyong whines under his breath, complains when his manager slaps him on the back as a form of encouragement. Taeyong can't even think of running away now because it's already too late and he risks coming off as disrespectful if he doesn't offer congratulations to his seniors.

Soft voices grow louder, pitched high in excitement and Taeyong bows when three women walk past him, congratulates them on their win with a tremble in his voice. Moonbyul notices him first, probably doesn't even recognise him because it's dark and they're in a hurry to get back to the relative warmth of their car and because Taeyong has a mask covering half of his face anyways. She still returns Taeyong's bow, mumbles a _thank you_ and Solar and Hwasa follow her lead, barely glancing at Taeyong at all, shoulders hunched against the wind but smiles bright as they pass their award among each other, admiring the glint of it under the muted glare of distant street lights.

Taeyong doesn't watch them go, turns around instead to look for _her_. He spots her not far away, talking to another woman Taeyong cannot recognise, her soft voice barely carrying over to his ringing ears, her hands gesturing wildly.

Taeyong makes a noise in the back of his throat when she turns around and walks his way, his heart beating almost painfully quick. Her blazer is pulled tight around her body, arms wrapped around herself to keep warm, head bent as she rushes to catch up with the rest of her group, heeled boots clicking loudly against the floor as her hair blows in the wind behind her.

He feels faint, feels like his tongue is glued to the roof of his mouth and Taeyong knows he's being dramatic but he can't help it. Taeyong isn't a man of many words, especially when it comes to talking to other people in the industry, his _seniors_. Especially when it comes to _her_ ; Jung Wheein. Just looking at Wheein from afar, at her dimpled smile and bright eyes, it's enough to leave him tongue tied and breathless. Taeyong doesn't think he's going to survive having an actual conversation with her.

"S-Sunbaenim," he calls softly as she walks past, voice cracking like it used to back when Taeyong was still a teenage boy going through puberty.

Taeyong curses himself, cheeks heating up in embarrassment as he clears his throat. He counts it lucky that he's wearing a mask he can easily hide his mortification behind. Knows, if it ever came to it, that he could just as easily blame his stuttered speech on the piece of fabric over his mouth, maybe even the cold, and not on his own boyish nervousness.

Wheein halts in her steps, clearly startled, and spins around to face him. Taeyong gulps, feels himself shrinking under her wide-eyed stare, pink lips pursed in surprise, her black mask hanging off of one ear. She blinks a few times, her cheeks and the tip of her nose endearingly pink from the cold and Taeyong feels a pang of worry, makes an aborted move as if to offer her his jacket, drape it over her trembling frame, before he realises he's not wearing one. He clenches his hands into fists by his sides, suddenly disappointed in himself for not carrying a coat, for stopping Wheein and keeping her here, making her stand in the open air for longer than she needs to.

 _He's an idiot. He really is_.

"Taeyong-ssi?" She asks, hesitant, almost like she's afraid of being wrong, like she's scared of offending him. She takes a step towards him, looking up at him through her lashes, her voice soft and sweet in the frigid evening air, warming Taeyong from the inside out.

Taeyong blinks, surprised but delighted at the fact that she recognises him, _knows_ him even. His toothy grin is hidden behind his mask but he's sure Wheein can tell by the way his eyes crinkle that he's smiling. Must know it because she graces him with a small, awkward smile of her own, full lips curling up gently as she holds his gaze.

Taeyong's breath hitches, she's even prettier up close. Ethereal even.

"Yes," he confirms, his voice steady even though his hands are trembling uncontrollably. He bows – a belated reaction – and she rushes to do the same, an embarrassed laugh falling from her lips that makes his heart stutter in his chest.

Taeyong finds it a little hard to breathe, doubts it has anything to do with the mask covering his nose and his mouth but blames it on that anyways. His chest is a little too tight, sweat beading on his brow despite how cold he is. He doesn't remember ever being this nervous, not even before a performance.

"Congratulations," he breathes out, doesn't know what else to add, has a hundred things that he'd like to say – words that he'd rehearsed in the dark of the parking lot, whispering them to himself to make sure it sounded right – but now that she's here, standing right in front of him, her lashes fluttering, fanning against pink cheeks as she blinks up at him, Taeyong finds that he can't form a coherent thought much less an entire sentence. He swallows thickly, tries again.

"Congratulations on winning," he says intelligently and he's already berating himself as soon as the words are out of his mouth because now Wheein's going to think he's an idiot. She'll probably walk away and forget all about Taeyong and his stupidly awkward self, won't care about him beyond this little meeting of theirs. He shuffles restlessly, clenches his hands into fists so hard that his nails dig into his palms. He'd tried so hard to go for that suave, masculine charm he's known for on stage but maybe he was doomed from the start; just watching her on screen, watching her from afar was enough to turn him into a mess. Exchanging words with her, face to face… Taeyong realises belatedly that he never stood a chance.

He's broken out of his spiral of self-deprecating thoughts by the sound of Wheein's laughter, amusement flickering in the depths of her eyes. The tips of his ears are burning and Taeyong would take this as his cue to cut their conversation short and run away but he stays rooted to his spot, entranced by the way Wheein's nose scrunches as she laughs, a hand covering her mouth, her cheeks flushing darker.

Taeyong sighs like the lovestruck fool he probably is and smiles fondly as he watches her, that strange feeling in the pit of his stomach returning.

"Thank you," Wheein smiles wider at him, cocking her head to the side as she considers him. Her bangs fall into her eyes and Taeyong is tempted to close the gap between them, to reach out and brush her hair away from her face but that would be too forward of him, would be inappropriate. Maybe if fate would be kind to him he'd be presented with that chance in the future. Maybe if fate were considerate he'd get to hold her hand, tell her, in every way that he knows, how beautiful she is, what an amazing performer she is, how much he admires her.

 _Maybe_. Taeyong can only hope.

For now, he lets the silence stretch on, unsure of what more to say to her.

Wheein considers him, giving him a shy smile as she hugs herself tighter, her cheek dimpling and with the way his heart stutters in his chest Taeyong knows that he's absolutely _gone._

He opens and closes his mouth a few times, shuffles on his feet, can feel the blush on his own cheeks, burning hot against the cold breeze. Taeyong knows he should let Wheein catch up with the rest of her group but he also doesn't know when he'll get this chance again – _if_ he will get this chance again – so he selfishly holds her gaze, her attention, even though he can't find anything else to say.

Lit up by the muted glare of distant street lights, smiling softly at him, Wheein looks angelic almost and Taeyong swears she's the most beautiful woman he's ever laid eyes upon. And in the relative silence that stretches on around them, surrounded by nothing but cold, damp darkness and gentle awkwardness, Taeyong finds himself falling a little harder.

**Author's Note:**

> Man I lied this thing is crap but I wanted to end the year with some fluff so, uh, here we are. Also debuted another tag on ao3 and I feel a little badass lol nvm that probably only 5 people will read this fic (also excuse the title – taken from fall out boys' Church – I couldn't think of anything else lol).
> 
> Happy new year you guys. May this year be kinder to you than the last ❤️💖


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